Waiting
by Brat4Life
Summary: Hermione's Tale. Rated M for later chapters. Eventually Dramione.


**A/N:** Hello, everyone!

I've been a loyal reader of fanfiction for about ten years and am now trying my hand at my own fanfiction. I've used fanfiction as a mean to improve my English, so, I think I'm ready to give it a shot.

This is my first fanfiction. Constructive criticism is encouraged. Point at the good and bad, please.

I proofread my own work, so I'm bound to have mistakes and things that don't make sense. (My brain makes up for the gaps that may not be in the story.)

If you like my story and would like to Beta it, please send me a message. ^_^

**Disclaimer:** These characters are not mine, they are property of J.K. Rowling. 

~0~

Chapter One: Divorce

I'm not sure where to start my story. I should probably start in the beginning. I don't recall too much of my youth, just small snippets of conversations and a few snapshots of confusing facial reactions I could never interpret properly. There is something that stands out above all the dreams and nightmares I've had as a child and all the memories of the blurred emotions I've felt. There was this deep need to acknowledge a change inside of me at the tender age of four that I tried to ignore for the sake of being accepted. I wanted to be accepted by family, adults, and kids my age. I wanted to join the joy others seem to have while sitting socially at a table in the middle of the night, or even play a round of "tag" with my fellow classmates without the awkward tension and the odd looks.

You see, I never really felt like I was part of anything. I felt like I was looking at my life through a photographer's lens. I was always physically there when people smiled, laughed, and had an overall good time but I really wasn't apart of it. I lived life like a witness. Like I wasn't a main character to my story called life. I was a side-character, or one of those people that work off stage on a play to make sure that everything ran smoothly. I tried so hard to change, to be "just like everyone else" but I couldn't. I didn't know how. I struggled with confusion, and I kept an emotional distance because I didn't fully understand what was going on around me or even what made me so different. 

The memory of the day I decided that it was okay to be a bit special and I purposely intended to be different was a day I etched into the notebook of my mind. 

I noticed a change. It was small at first. People, both young and old, flocked to me just to be in my presence. I was strangely okay with that and sat in silence most of the time, just basking in the fact that I had company.

By the time nightfall fell, I was back at home safe and tucked in bed. I was startled awake by my parents arguing in the next room. My father's low pitch voice hissing out curses and barking out demands made my heartbeat a bit faster. My breathing started to change until I could hear my own harsh pants with my own ears just as the peripherals of my vision started to fade to darkness. I only saw the off-white tattered door and the light that shined underneath. I could see the shadow of my parents as they angrily paced through the hallway to the living room, which caused me to have a small heart palpitation. 

'What was going on,' I wondered. 

I slowly moved the blankets and bunched them at my feet. I childishly scissored my legs on the covers relishing at the crisp coolness that replaced the heat. I took deep steady breaths until I gained some semblance of my night vision back to its normal depths. I wasn't too sure what I felt when I heard my father's voice like that but it was something I knew I didn't like feeling. I beat down the panic after I heard the sound of a vase crashing on a floor by closing my eyes and listening to an echo of a memory of my mother telling me that everything was going to be alright. I fondly recalled the memory of falling off my first horse and at the sight of blood of my scrapped knee, my mother was quick to soothe me before I started to cry. I replayed her calm, soothing voice in my head until I composed myself. 

I sat up, with my feet dangling off the bedside fleetingly thinking about monsters under the bed before jumping down. 

"I'm a big girl now," I whispered. It didn't sound confident; it was more like I was trying to convince myself. 

My weight on the floorboards caused them to creak as I made my way to the door, I was already stretching my hand out towards the white knob and all its chipped paint glory before pausing when I heard a sob. That small pause was enough to replace every emotion I had of fear and false motivation with concern. I turned the knob and yanked the door open with all of my might. The _thud_ of the door hitting the wall was but a distant noise. I rubbed my eyes to adjust it to the light as I walked towards the direction of where I last heard the noise. I don't recall ever noticing the tense silence that followed when I approached my parents in the living room. My eyes locked on my mother's tear-stained face. She immediately looked down and away from me letting her light brown locks shield her face as she palmed her tears away. When she regained her bearings, she flashed me a smile. I could only stare at the red surrounding her honey colored orbs. I looked at her quizzically and my mind drew blanks. 

I looked around the living room assessing the situation as my eyes scanned past the broken lamp shattered of the floor, with it's umbrella covering casted in a distance. Clothes scattered on the floor, along with hygiene bottles and hair trimming accessories. I noticed the tattered shoes thrown haphazardly on the long coach looking so out of place along with a trail of blue shaving cream foaming within the cushioning of the couch. I slowly dragged my eyes across the room to my father, who stood as if frozen at the entrance of an open door with a red hand-print on his face. I couldn't decipher the look in his eyes as he stared at me in silence. His face an emotionless mask but his dark brown eyes conveyed something I was too young to understand. I took a step toward him and he took a step back in response, lifting both his hands up in a 'stop' motion before snapping his eyes towards my mother. His mouth curled in a disgusted manner before he about-faced and briskly walking away to the car. 

My heart stop and a small 'no' escaped my lips before I started to run and aimed to grab his legs. I felt a shift in balance as I was tugged back by my mother when I reached the entrance of the door. My vision started to blur and my eyes began to leak. A deep twinge of pain could be felt on my chest as I struggled to get away and go to my father. I choked a sob becoming more desperate by the second to reach him. 

'There's something different about him leaving now.' My whole body screamed. 

I watched as he opened the latch to the driver door and bowed in his head in thought. 

"Pa-," I cried. 

He swirled around to face me. His eyes widening at the sight of my tears before looking over my shoulder to my mother who was struggling to hold me back. I don't know how long my parents were staring at each other. They were somehow able to communicate without words something I didn't quite catch on through their expressions. 

"Hermione," my mother turned me to face her, smiling a watery smile. "Your father will be going away for a little while…He'll be back-." 

I turned back to my father, eyes full of hope, looking for confirmation. His eyes never left my mother as he hesitantly nodded. 

"It's called a divorce," my father's baritone voice filled the tense air. I unknowingly broke the silence after a few moments with my sniffles. I wiped the tears of my eyes to clear my vision. I noticed my father hadn't moved from his spot behind of his ajar car. He was behind it like he was using the door as a shield, glaring over my shoulder. 

"What's divorce?" I managed to ask in between my sniffling.

My mother tried to turn me to face her again but there was something deep in me that refused to let my father out of my field of vision. I think my mother noticed this so she sighed and proceeded to say, "It's when two people make a promise to never leave each other because they love each other…" she paused as I continue to stare at my father's reaction to her words. He was practically seething. "Things don't work out in the end… So, one of them has to leave…" She ended it with, "You'll understand when you're older." 

I've grown to strongly dislike that phrase. Out of spite, I crossed my arms and huffed, "I want to go with Pa!" 

I heard my mother gasp. My father's eyes darted to mine, warming with some unknown paternal emotion that brought a smile to my face. I stepped forward to join him. My father saddened when he acknowledged the forward motion. His eyes then dropped to my feet, hiding his emotions. 

"Stay with your mother." 

I was shocked. Didn't he want me? Wasn't I his favorite? My eyes began to tear up again at the thought. A deep-pitted feeling sunk my heart to the point of choking on my own breath. I clasped my small hand to my chest and fisted my shirt, applying pressure to where the feeling came from. As I tried to release the breath lodged in my throat, a sob escaped instead. I watched as my father sat in his car and closed the door. Backing the car until all I saw were the headlights that shined on my mother and me. He made a fast swift turn that caused the tires to screech before being swallowed by the darkness. I stayed long after the red glowing rear lights of the car disappeared. I barely noticed the brush of my mother's fingertips on my back, tracing some unknown design, trying to console me. I was too deeply rooted in my thoughts. I glanced on my person, running my eyes to my bare feet and up my baby blue ducky pajamas to where my hand stayed still pinned to my chest. 

'The feeling inside hurt so much. Why wasn't I bleeding?' I wondered. The overhead lights began to flicker. Something popped as I stared off into the distance with the overhead lights quickly diming like a fire slowing being distinguished. 

I blinked more tears away as I tried to settle myself so I could face the outcome of what just happened. 

My father just divorced me. 

I heard another pop and my mother gasped, her grip on my arm tightened. We were both shrouded in darkness.

**A/N: **Please submit a comment below.


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